


I still want to drown, whenever you leave

by heavenisalibrary



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, random ill-conceived original companion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenisalibrary/pseuds/heavenisalibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or "Five Times River Song Casually Showed Up and Almost Definitely Scarred Various Companions for Life (And Sometimes the Doctor, Too")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This'll be five shortish parts. As it says on the tin — five times River Song casually popped in and out of the Doctor's life, scarring companions by shattering their illusions of the Doctor (and sometimes startling the Doctor enough to scar him a little, too.)

She’d been up all night, tossing and turning. Usually she got a better night’s sleep in the TARDIS than she did anywhere else — even though traveling with the Doctor was nothing but trouble, she felt as though the ship was safe. It seemed a bit more low-tech than home — even though, Abigail knew, the TARDIS was a more intricate machine than any she’d encountered — in the sixty-third century where everything was metallic and whirring, but it was peaceful and warm, and her room was designed exactly for her. Usually, when they were in the vortex, it was perfectly quiet, too. Except for last night — last night she’d barely slept a minute. Every time she rolled over, she’d hear some sort of noise. Distant moans, as though someone were in pain. A rhythmic pounding against the wall punctuated by another ghostly wail. She’d seen a lot of things over the past couple of months. Still, she was hesitant to mention to the Doctor that she thought his ship might be haunted.

It was all she could think about, though, as she stumbled into the kitchen where the Doctor was already brewing her usual coffee — sometimes he was considerate, instead of an oaf — although she raised a brow at the tea pot he pulled off of the stove. He was humming, and she was ready to mock his grumpy Scottish arse relentlessly for it when he spotted her and stopped immediately, frowning.

“You don’t usually drink that,” Abigail said, hopping up to sit on the counter and watch him as he puttered around. 

“I drink tea,” the Doctor said.

“Yes,” Abigail said, “tea brewed from the leaves of flesh eating plants, tea given to you by Martians that smells like sulfur, tea that’s promised to make you breathe under water — any sort of tea one would not generally want to consume, you drink with gusto.”

“Nothing wrong with a little adventure,” he mumbled. “Plus, I am Scottish. And I used to be English, so —”

“Rubbish,” Abigail said, watching him pour her a steaming mug of coffee. “That’s the TARDIS translation matrix. You’re only British because I am.”

He shrugged. Even though he’d stopped humming, she could see he was in a good mood — he was practically skipping around the kitchen as he fussed over the teapot, preparing the milk in sugar in the containers he never, ever bothered with, even when he did make some bizarre sort of tea.

She accepted the coffee he offered her with a smile, and he turned away from her, continuing to fuss about, pouring the water over the leaves in the teapot and placing the whole thing on a tray. Abigail watched him silently.

“Is the TARDIS haunted, Doctor?”

“What?!” he asked, looking at her sharply.

“It’s just — last night. There were all sorts of noises. Things going bump in the night. It’s a big ship, you’ve said. Maybe the biggest. Any chance something’s, you know, hitched a ride?”

“Erm —”

“I mean, it didn’t sound dangerous,” Abigail continued, “just your usual moaning and groaning. A bit of banging. Maybe something’s trapped, yeah?”

The Doctor’s face was bright red, and Abigail narrowed her eyes at him.

“Alright, you nutter,” she said, “what did you do?”

“I didn’t — I didn’t do anything — well — I guess I did but… erm, it’s not haunted, but it’s possible someone —”

Before he could finish his sentence a woman entered the kitchen, and Abigail’s jaw immediately dropped. The strange woman yawned as she entered, throwing her arms over her head in a luxurious stretch, her head a mane of wild, curly hair. 

“Sweetie, didn’t our room used to be next to the library?” she asked, looking down at herself to right her pajamas, a rather flimsy negligee that Abigail thought the Doctor would’ve disapproved of, but judging by his expression, he was alright with this woman wearing it. “Only who’s room is — oh. Hello!” she said, noticing Abigail. Abigail just gaped. “Professor River Song,” the woman said, striding toward Abigail and offering her a hand to shake. Abigail took it wordlessly, looking slack-jawed from River to the Doctor and back again. “Sorry if we’ve kept you up all night, the old girl does love a dirty joke, though being a sentient ship she hasn’t got many outlets —”

“She does not!”

“Of course she does, old man,” River said, waving her hand, and the Doctor hmphed. “She’s my mother — where did you think I got it from?”

“Probably _your mother_ ,” the Doctor said, “Amelia Pond may’ve been a little girl five minutes ago but she took _great_ joy in making my other face turn bright red.”

River laughed. “Well, one plus one equals two — now you understand why I’m so bad. Not that you’re one to talk.” River walked over to the Doctor, and Abigail felt instantly although she’d been entirely forgotten. Usually the Doctor was only too keen to show off people and places to her, but now, his eyes were fixed solely on River, his expression more than a little soppy — and Abigail never thought she’d use that word to describe the Doctor.

“I haven’t got a dirty sense of humor,” he said.

“Of course you do,” River said, “wouldn’t be able to keep up with me otherwise, honey. What, do you think I come for your —”

“ _River!_ ” the Doctor shouted, reaching out and grabbing River, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her laugh was loud and filthy and filled the room. Abigail’s eyes grew even wider.

River tried to say something behind his hand, but he held fast.

“Not in front of the companion!”

Abigail nearly spit coffee across the room.

River must’ve bit him or something, because he yelped, jumping back from her and shaking his hand with a glare.

“I wasn’t even about to say anything disgraceful,” River said, “I was just proving that you live permanently in the gutter.”

“Only when you’re around.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, honey,” River said, “love a bad boy, me.”

“Oh do you, now,” the Doctor said, stepping nearer to her. She swayed into him as though he had a gravitational pull.

“Don’t be coy,” River said, “I thought I showed you as much last night when I —”

“Alright!” the Doctor shouted, quickly grabbing a scone from the tray he’d set up and stuffing it into River’s mouth as she laughed again. “I _know_ you were going to say something disgraceful that time.”

River just smirked, winking at Abigail, who felt like she was having a stroke. River reached around the Doctor and poured herself a cup of tea with a bit of milk, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“At any rate,” River said, turning to Abigail, “I’m sorry if we kept you up.”

“If you…” Abigail looked between them — River, scantily clad, leaning comfortably against the Doctor’s chest, hands wrapped around her cup of tea he’d painstakingly prepared for her on an adorable tray with a single flower in a vase in the center; the Doctor, red-faced, eyes on River, his body curling in possessively around her without him even realizing it — and suddenly it all made sense. “Oh, oh my god. Ew. _Ew._ ”

“It’s not what you think!” the Doctor exclaimed, instantly straightening and glaring at River.

“It’s exactly what you think,” River said, “and I’ll see if the old girl can’t jumble the rooms around again for the next few nights.”

“You’re staying for a few nights?” the Doctor said, abruptly changing tones. He had that besotted look again. “Really?”

“Only a few,” River said, turning around to face him with a smile. “You know the rules.”

“Your rules,” he grumbled.

“Ah, and I never jump through your hoops,” River said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

“You’re so much more graceful,” the Doctor said.

“You’re not so bad yourself this go,” River said. “Babyface, now, he spent all his time tripping over his feet.”

“Can you stop _flirting_?” Abigail said. “I think I’ve definitely not had _nearly_ enough coffee to watch this. I don’t think I can _ever_ have enough coffee to watch this. I thought you were, like, a space monk.”

 

“Oh, the stories I could tell you,” River said with a grin. Abigail decided that even though she was sick to her stomach at the moment, she was going to like Professor River Song.

“But you won’t,” the Doctor said.

“But I won’t,” River said seriously, and then, crinkling her nose, “at least not until my old fella is occupied.”

“I made you this nice tea and now you won’t even play nice,” the Doctor pouted at her. River patted his cheek.

“Be a good boy and rearrange the rooming matrix for poor Abigail here, hm? I’ll go get dressed and then you can show me something impressive,” River said.

The Doctor smirked. “I thought I showed you something impressive last —”

“I’m going to vomit all over your TARDIS if you don’t stop right there,” Abigail said.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor had been really off his game when he programmed their landing point — or maybe he'd really wanted to land where they did, just hadn't been able to acknowledge it, because it was more than a little painful on top of being _stupidly_ dangerous, or maybe his ship simply hadn't listened to him — because he'd accidentally taken Clara to a place the Ponds could've plausibly been. He usually made sure to stay just out of their reach, since Amy, Rory, and Clara all came from similar years, but this time he'd made a mistake. He'd taken Clara for chips in Edinburgh, only to find that Rory was in town for some sort of nursing conference.

"I didn't even know that was a thing," the Doctor said, straightening his bowtie.

"Oh, shut up and give me a hug, Doctor," Rory said with a grin, lurching forward and slinging and arm around his shoulder. The Doctor stumbled into Rory, hesitating for half a moment before wrapping his arms around him tightly and giving him a squeeze. He held on a bit too long — in part because he'd missed the Roman, and in part because he needed to compose himself so Rory wouldn't see him tearing up. The moment they pulled away, Rory clapped the Doctor on the shoulder and added, "can I assume no aliens are present, nothing's going to crash into the face of the earth, and you're not here to ward of an impending apocalypse, or is that just asking too much of you?"

The Doctor held his hands up in supplication. "No, no," he said, "just taking Clara for some chips. Clara, this is Roranicus Pond. Rory, Clara."

Rory rolled his eyes at the Doctor and shook Clara's hand.

"I've never met anyone who traveled with him before," Clara said.

"No, us either — me and my wife, Amy, that is — except for R —"

"I'll be right back," the Doctor interrupted, feeling suddenly as though the room was too small. "Gonna go fetch those chips. Grab a table. Rory, the chips are on me."

"Actually," Clara said, "they're on me."

"He never carries money," Rory said with a smirk, shaking his head. Leading Clara over to a table, he waved the Doctor off. "Go on, then. We'll be fine. I'll tell her tons of embarrassing stories about you, not to worry."

The Doctor gave Rory a salute that was more than a little sarcastic and tottered off to fetch the chips. Seeing Rory was hard. Much harder than he'd have though — he didn't discount Rory by any means, Rory was easily one of the best men the Doctor had ever known, and he loved him dearly, but while he could manage an afternoon with Rory, he thought even a passing mention of Amy might be too much. River was still in and out of his life, at least here and there, but it'd been years and years since Manhattan, and to see part of his _family_ , his _Ponds_ now was nearly unbearable. He debated over what to order for a long time, and ended up just ordering plain old chips as he'd intended, but fifteen minutes later he felt more equipped to handle some stolen time with his father-in-law. At the very least, his hearts felt a little less fragile.

When he turned to look at Rory and Clara, chips in hand, Rory looked pale and a bit ill while Clara spoke animatedly, gesturing broadly as she spoke. As the Doctor approached, he was able to hear more of the conversation.

"...clothing thrown all over the console room. I thought he was dead! He was just parked in front of my house when I got home, and I walk in, you know, and nothing — no one. So I'm walking through the console room, sort of peering at the clothing and making sure there's not, erm, body parts still attached or blood or anything that would make me _really_ panic, and when I get into the hallway, I start to hear noises, and I think, 'oh, god, he's really in trouble' and maybe a little bit about how smug I'll get to be after I save his stupid arse, but he wasn't in trouble at all — and he wasn't alone — and, anyway, the point of the story is that the only other person I've met who the Doctor's traveled with is Riv —"

The Doctor plowed between them with the chips, all but shoving them under Rory's nose and looking at Rory's blank expression. The Doctor wrung his hands out nervously.

"Let's talk about something else, hm?"

"What, you're embarrassed?" Clara said, rolling her eyes and grabbing a chip. She smirked at him. "Could've fooled me, with all the times I've walked in on your two sha —"

" _Clara_ ," the Doctor said, "have you met Rory? Lovely, brilliant Rory. Rory the Roman."

The Doctor reached out and ruffled Rory's hair, hoping that he was just imagining Rory's expression changing from blank to angry.

"Of course we've met," said Clara, "you introduced us."

"Right," the Doctor said, "did I mention Rory has a daughter?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Rory said, covering his face in his hands.

"Aww, how old?" Clara cooed, although she was glancing between the Doctor and Rory confusedly, finally realizing that something wasn't quite right.

Those years where River'd been on board the TARDIS with her parents had been complicated, and more than once they'd both gotten a stern telling off for their inability to behave appropriately, but almost universally it had been Amy slapping their wrists — and Amy, while terrifying in her own right, also had a much better sense of humor about the whole thing. The few times Rory had been confronted with the down-and-dirty reality of his daughter being married to his wife's imaginary friend, he'd all but plugged his ears with his fingers and hummed a tune. The Doctor clapped Rory on the back as he groaned.

"You've met," the Doctor said. Clara looked even more confused.

"We have?"

"Yep," the Doctor said. "Time travel, you know. I'm a big fan of Rory's daughter. You could say I'm her number one fan."

"O...kay," said Clara, "can someone buy me a vowel, please?"

"River Song," Rory said. "River Song is my daughter. And I have a sword, Doctor, and a few thousand years worth of practice using it —"

"So I probably shouldn't have told him about that time I found you handcuffed to the console, hm?" Clara said, looking sheepish.

"I hate you," Rory said to the Doctor. The Doctor placed a smacking kiss on Rory's forehead and stuffed the chips under his nose anew.

"You don't, father-in-law." 

Rory groaned.


	3. Chapter 3

River was sitting at a desk in the king's private quarters. She looked perfectly at home among the opulence — her hair was arranged in an intricate tower on top of her head, golden curls grabbed by the sunlight behind her so that she looked as though she was lit up from within. The dress she wore was as grand as anything Clara had seen on the ladies and princesses and other bits of royalty on her way in — off-white, detailed with gold, daringly cut as ever. River smiled at Clara, though she didn't rise to greet her, and Clara beamed back. Although Clara made it her job to rib the Doctor about his wife, and although she was a little wary of River popping in and out of her husband's life given that from the Doctor's perspective River was already dead, she couldn't help it. She bloody  _loved_ River Song. 

The Doctor was absolutely ridiculous in every way — he was constantly stumbling into things and getting tangled up in trouble and semi-accidentally saving the universe — River had the same sort of recklessness and air of the absurd, but everything about her was intentioned. If Clara hadn't had Danny and wasn't a little bit enamored of the way River and the Doctor looked at one another when they thought no one could see them, she'd be half in love with River herself.

"What are you up to this time, River?" Clara said. "And where's the Doctor? I thought I'd find him strung up by his ankles in some dungeon when the TARDIS showed up at my door. I didn't think she could fly without a pilot."

"Oh, she will for me," River said, and then winced, gripping the edge of the desk and shifting her weight. "Not to worry, dear, I think the Doctor'll be just fine. We thought we were going to be arrested, but..." River trailed off, leaning an elbow on the desk and covering her mouth with her hand for a beat.

"Are you alright?" Clara said, stepping toward River as River cringed slightly, before clearing her throat and shaking her head.

"I'm fine," River said, shaking her head and brightening with a smile. She gripped the edge of the desk a bit harder, leaning forward, and Clara furrowed her brow.

"Okay, well," Clara said, looking around. "Where's the Doctor? Or must we rescue him?"

"He's alright," River said, "we thought we were going to be arrested but, uh..." she trailed off again, biting down on her lip.

Clara raised a brow. "Dying of suspense here, River."

"Right! Right," River said, sounding remarkably like the Doctor as she readjusted her weight once more. "We were going to be arrested because I was engaged to the King — political gambit, you know how it is — and the Doctor is a jealous idiot, and so we sent for you because he tried to, uh..."

River's eyes drifted to the side and she covered her mouth again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Clara said.

"Yes!" River said, her voice slightly too high. She took a deep, shaking breath before continuing. "Anyway, he tried to take me down with him, and we thought we were both going to be arrested, hence sending the TARDIS, but at the last minute I was able to get that idiot —" she paused again, jumping a bit, "to exercise some self-control and shut his mouth, and so I was able to regain control of the situation."

"So you're engaged to the king?" Clara said with a grin. "What king? Where are we, even? This room is incredible." Clara spun around the room a bit, and when she turned around River shuddered, lifting a shaking hand up to adjust her hair. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look well at all."

River smiled, though it quickly faded as she shifted in her seat yet again, biting her lip. She looked flushed, and her breathing was becoming a bit labored, even though she was clearly trying to control it. "It's the corset, dear. Nothing to worry about. The Doctor should be somewhere out there — and you're my royal guest so... uh..." River trailed off, slamming a hand down onto the desk where she gripped the edge of it again. Clara jumped at the sound, and River immediately smiled again to ease her. "So! You have the freedom to go wherever you please. My wardrobe is the second door on the left — there's a lady in waiting there who'd be happy to fit you into... into... into s-something fetching..."

"Okay..." Clara gave River a weird look and stepped back toward the door, turning the handle. "Are you _sure_ you're alright?"

"Fine, fine," River said, her voice thin and quick — her knuckles turned white against the desk. "Off you pop, then."

"Yep," Clara said, "sure. I'll see you soon?"

"Of course!" River said, her tone giving Clara the distinct feeling of being pushed out the door. "I'll track down the Doctor and meet up with you soon."

The moment Clara shut the door behind her, she heard River's hand — presumably — slam down against the desk again and she cried out, loudly enough that a few servants lingering in the halls looked up as she continued to cry out, her cries going louder and shorter until she all but screamed, and even through the closed door Clara could hear her gasping for breath after she stopped. Clara turned around quickly, about to open the door to see what on earth was wrong when she heard the Doctor's low, rumbling voice saying something indistinct.

Clapping a hand over her face and feeling a bit ill, Clara pounded on the door.

"You are horrible people and I hope the king beheads you _both_ for adultery!" she shouted.

Unfortunately the King was right behind her, and so not only did Clara get them all into life-threatening danger, but she was treated to the truly nauseating experience of watching the King throw open he doors and seeing the Doctor scramble out from beneath the desk, wiping his mouth on his hand as River laughed.

Frankly, she thought River and the Doctor both deserved imprisonment after putting her through that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is some incredibly lazy writing with weird expansive justifications for things that don't need to be justified and no perceivable characterization anywhere in it. C'est la vie.

He had something of a proclivity for taking companions from eras that would particularly appreciate all the wonders of the universe — mostly humans, after all, they were his favorite — and so earth was generally his stopping-off point to find someone new to travel with, but there were certain sweet spots. Sometimes he veered off the path, but generally between the nineteenth and thirtieth century were his best bets. Too much after that and there was far too much technology; humans after a certain time period tended to try and explain too many magical things away with tech and logic, which was fine, but made it a bit more work to really wow them. The twenty-first century tended to be his sweet spot.

Of course, he sometimes forgot humans could time travel, which was how he ended up with Claudia, who’s everything he loves — clever, difficult, adventurous, a little bit mad in the best of ways — but he neglected to ask for specifics of her origins, and so when he’d met her in the twentieth century and she’d said she was from Selena, he assumed she meant Selena, Illinois, not Selena the-fifty-something-th-century-settlement-on-the-moon, Selena.  
Still, he liked Claudia, so once he realized he hijacked her on a independent study project she was working on for her degree, he still agreed to take her with him, after stopping off in her own time every once in a while so she can catch up on classes and grab some homework. It irked him slightly, how sometimes she seemed to use him like a research tool — “can we go visit this settlement? Fifteenth century Earth, on this L-shaped bit of land, I need it for…” or “I’m curious about the Martian food in the thirtieth century for this chapter of my dissertation — fancy a bite?” — but he appreciated her curiosity and her sometimes comically academic take on the things he showed her. When he asked her what she was studying — because sometimes it sounded an awful lot like archaeology, and he couldn’t have that — she said she was an independent major, quite undecided, but largely focused on history at large.

“It’s a big subject to cover,” the Doctor told her with a raised brow. “Especially since we’re having this conversation on a time machine — history could be anything. Anywhere. All the time, depending on where you’re standing.”

“Sounds like a challenge to me,” Claudia said, and he’d relented, and things were good.

He tried to keep his mouth shut when she talked about her studies to him, because while she was very bright and very well-read and very interested in learning, she was almost always wrong despite that, but sometimes she’d drag him out of some adventure to take her to class, and he’d drop her at her flat in Selena and she’d pick up her things and go to class and he’d skip forward until she was through. Companions needed a life, he’d realized long ago. Otherwise he swallowed them up whole.

Claudia had been traveling with him on and off for almost a year when he realized he didn’t even know where she went to school. When he’d asked, she rolled her eyes, exasperated.

“I know you’re clever,” she said, “but honestly, you’re sometimes the dullest bloke I’ve ever met. There’s only one University on the moon, Doctor.”

He opened his mouth to reply but the realization his him like a freight train and his hearts felt as though they slammed against his ribcage so hard that he clutched a hand to his chest, stumbling slightly and stuttering out a nonsense syllable. He felt the blood drain from his face, felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, and Claudia hurried over to him, a look of concern on her face.

“Are you alright?” she asked, “not having a heart-attack, are you? Erm, hearts-attack?”

“No, no,” he said, waving her off and righting himself. He felt as though he were going to be violently ill.

“Good,” Claudia said, “because I’m always worried about that, you know. You’re so… you know, you’re so old and so Scottish, I just worry about all that running and —“

He huffed. “I’m not old! Well, no, I am old, but I’m not old like you think of old. I’m a different kind of old and Time Lords don’t have heart attacks and — and — shut up, would you?”

“You were the one talking,” Claudia pointed out.

He shrugged at her, taking a moment to compose himself before he turned back to the console as casually as possible, trying to pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened. River wasn’t completely gone from his life — sometimes he ran into her — but it’d been so few and far between and so random and she hadn’t even once let slip an adventure he hadn’t already been on, and he’d thought he’d never see her again. It had been, after all, a few hundred years since he’d last run into her on a cruise ship on the Milky Way. But maybe — maybe not, he thought. Maybe this wasn’t the universe throwing him a bone; maybe it was a tease. Maybe River wasn’t a professor yet, or had already gone to the library, or any number of things. Maybe she wasn’t teaching this semester.

“Doctor, what is it?” Claudia said.

“Do you like your Professors?” he asked conversationally.

“Yes,” she said, sounding confused. Instead of arguing with him, however, she leaned against the console beside him and continued. “For the most part. I’ve got an awful Roman Antiquities Professor — he doesn’t know a thing. And my twenty-first century earth lecture is seriously lacking. But the other two are all right. And I know you hate archaeology, Doctor, but my advisor is the head of the archaeology department and she’s rather brilliant —"

He wheeled on her. “When do you meet with her?”

“What?”

“When, Claudia?”

“Wednesdays — today, usually. ‘Bout a half hour.”

“Think I could sit in?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I just —“

“You hate archaeology! You nearly shuddered out of this regeneration when you thought I was an archaeologist.”

“Yes, but — I just… this is important.”

She searched his face for a moment before shrugging. “Usually I’d say no. Professor Song is more than a little terrifying and usually we meet one-on-one, since she’s my advisor, and I don’t think she’d take kindly to me bringing a friend, but today it’s a group lecture. Small class, ten students or so. She’ll notice, but you’re dressed like an idiot anyway so she’ll probably just assume you’re there to evaluate or something.”

The Doctor beamed so much that Claudia took a step back.

"Well?" she said, waving him toward the door. "After you."

This is when, he thought, if he were in his Eleventh regeneration, he would've pressed a smacking kiss to her cheek and scared the daylights out of her. Now, he just straightened his dark coat and tried to keep from vibrating out of his skin with excitement.

 

 

They stopped at Claudia's flat to grab her notes, and then he rode the bus with her back to class. This felt like a mistake — like he'd stumbled upon something he shouldn't have, like the universe had forgotten to lock one door back to River, and he was afraid if he tried to take the TARDIS to her class, things would right themselves, and they'd miss it. So he sat for forty minutes in the bus, bouncing and shifting his weight and drumming his fingers against the armrest so much that Claudia got up and sat on the other side of the bus from him, pretending to look at her notes and glaring at him every few minutes. When she stood up, signalling they'd reached the proper stop, he practically pushed her out the door, walking so quickly that she nearly had to jog to keep up.

Finally, after what seemed like literal years, they reached the door of the lecture hall. The Doctor grabbed for the door, but Claudia stopped him, shoving him backward and placing herself between him and the door.

"What's wrong with you?" Claudia said.

"Nothing," he said, too quickly.

"I've talked about Professor Song loads over the past year," she said, "you've never once showed so much as a passing interest in her or my studies."

"You have not," the Doctor said with a frown, "because I assure you, if you'd mentioned Professor Song, I'd have been here before now."

"I have too! I've maybe not used her name, but I talk about my advisor all the time!"

"And she sounded lovely," the Doctor says, "but now —"

"You know her," Claudia said, raising her brows.

"Yes," said the Doctor, "we might've met a time or two."

"That's all?"

The Doctor tugged at his collar. He was never one to talk about the past, and some times he'd talked about River to Claudia — he couldn't help it, really, but he'd probably only ever said River, and so neither of them had made the connection. But now it felt especially private; he felt as though he were walking on eggshells, as though every facet of this needed to be handled quietly and secretly so as not to ruin it. Besides, he hadn't seen his wife in over a century. He wanted to keep even the knowledge of her to himself.

"Can we just go in?" he asked.

"Fine," Claudia said. "But behave."

"Don't I always?"

Claudia rolled her eyes at him, but pushed the door open and let him inside.

It was a typical lecture hall, a little shinier because it was the moon in the fifty-first century, and he there were a handful of students scattered about, a few of whom waved at Claudia and gave the Doctor weird looks, but the Doctor couldn't have cared less, because there at the front of the room, leaning over her podium and scanning over some notes with a pair of reading glasses falling down her nose, her hair tied messily onto her head, was River Song.

For the second time that day he felt as though he couldn't breathe.

" _Doctor_ ," Claudia hissed, and he heard, but couldn't bring himself to move or respond, " _Doctor!_ "

She was a little louder the second time, and the Doctor looked over to see her waving him to sit down, but she was also loud enough that River heard, and when the Doctor turned back to the front of the room, she was staring right at him, her mouth slightly agape.

"First day in my class," she said after a beat, "and already causing a disruption?"

"To be fair," the Doctor said, "it wasn't me, it was —"

"And who says we're being fair?"

"True," the Doctor said, "you've never been fair a day in your life."

"Awfully interesting stance for you to take," River said, smirking, "given all those times my concept of fairness or morality kept your sorry arse alive."

The Doctor wagged his finger at her, pausing to turn to Claudia as he pointed at River. "She's leaving out the part where frequently it needed to be saved from _her_!"

He looked back at River and she raised a brow.

"Not that I'm holding it against you," he added.

"Hold me against anything you like," she said, laughing, and the sound was so rich and warm and missed that he swallowed a few times, trying valiantly not to tear up. Oh, but he'd missed her. And this was probably a mistake, a glitch in their timelines, but he wanted to run up to the front of the room and wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to force her to travel with him and live in the TARDIS and drive him crazy with her trouble-making and make him cross about her archaeology and be there to hold his hand when he ran and just — just — not _disappear_ , not fade away bit by bit until every random moment he could steal with her had the aftertaste of an echo.

"Careful, Professor," the Doctor said, and he didn't miss the way she bit her lip — she loved when he called her Professor, "I might just take you up on that."

"Oh, honey," she said with another laugh, this one brighter. "I'd never forgive you if you didn't."

"'Course not," he said.

"Now — would you take your seat already? I've got a class to teach."

"Fine, fine," he muttered, putting his hands up in supplication and turning to flop down in the seat beside Claudia. "Always so demanding."

River winked at him, and he thought he'd never been happier in his whole life. Claudia, however, was less amused. She leaned over to the Doctor.

"So, Professor Song," Claudia said. "You don't just know her, you —"

" _Know_ her, yes," the Doctor confirmed. Claudia made a muffled gagging noise beside him.

"Please never said something with that much innuendo ever again," Claudia said. "I thought she was married, though. I've seen the pictures on her desk — some baby-faced idiot. I think he even popped into one of my classes once, a couple of years ago." She paused, but continued before the Doctor could cut in. "Actually, yeah — he definitely did. I'd totally forgotten! It was an absolute scandal in the department. Everyone thought he was just a really cheeky student, and Professor Song took him out into her office, and we thought he was done for, but then one of my coursemates worked part time for security, and was going over old tapes and it turned out she hadn't been disciplining him, but, you know, disciplining him. They shagged, in her office, during class! Can't believe she didn't get sacked, but she's so well-respected otherwise that — oh. Oh. Oh my god I've just realized, her first name is River, isn't it? You're him! You're baby face!"

"Claudia —"

"Doctor?" River called from the front of the room. "A word in my office while the students review their notes?"

The Doctor practically leapt to his feet, bounding down the stairs to reach River.

"Oh no," Claudia groaned behind him.

He had half a mind to apologize, or to tell her that nothing would happen, but he was practically tripping over himself, and so all he could do was offer her a half-hearted shrug and a smile he hoped was more apologetic than guess-who's-getting-laid and follow River into her office.

It was irresponsible of Claudia to let him crash her class, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

"You were _so_ young," River said immediately upon entering the TARDIS, eyes fixed on the Doctor as he flustered about her trying to take the coat she wore and hanging it on her coat rack. She didn't move far from him, and when he turned around, he jumped a bit to find her pressed right up against him. "We went to see a film and everything was lovely — you were only moderately flailing, and not all the time, and when I kissed you at the end of the night, you even _let_ me."

"River —"

"I knew it was going to be hard," River said, "I can't imagine what it'll be like when you're not even up to that, but it was just _so strange_ because it was you, my husband, I've known you my whole life, and I could tell you cared for me and that you wanted to be near me, because you kissed me back, and I _knew_ I shouldn't have pushed, but you know me..."

"I do, and —"

"Do you remember this night?"

The Doctor reddened slightly. "Of course. You _groped_ me."

River laughed, following him as he walked backward toward the console, wrapping her hands around his suspenders and leaning in close as he flailed a bit and tried not to trip over his own feet as she backed him into the console.

"You're just so cute young," she said, "and you picked that movie with that very long, very... _explicit_ scene and I couldn't help myself."

"We should —"

"No, no," River said, clicking her tongue. "I already dealt with one you leaving me high and dry, I won't have you do it a second time, especially when I know you're old enough not to have an excuse."

She had him out of his jacket before he could blink, his hands settled on her hips despite himself as she leaned up to pepper kisses along his jawline. He gasped, trying equal parts to get closer to her and scramble away, his hands bumbling against the console as she pressed herself closer to him.

"What's wrong with you?" she said, biting the side of his throat in a way that made him shiver.

"Nothing at all," he said, "it's just —"

"Then relax, would you?" she said, her nimble fingers half done unbuttoning his shirt. He didn't even _know_ where his bow tie went.

He wanted to protest and explain, but it was so distracting to have an armful of demanding, needy River in his arms, wriggling against him and scratching at his skin, making him hot and cold all over, and before he could try again, she kissed him on the lips and all hope was lost. Her mouth was warm and soft against his; she nipped at his lower lip, moaning and melting into him as he opened his mouth on a gasp. Her tongue slid into his mouth, kissing him harder, her hands smoothing over the bare skin of his chest as she slid his shirt off. Without meaning to he wrapped his arms around her and held her fast to him, dimly away of her sliding the straps of her dress off of her shoulders and it was all moving too quickly, and he knew he needed to stop her before her hand got any farther down his trousers but she moaned again and he lived for that sound and so all he could do was spin them around so that he could press her up against the console, and the sound of her body colliding with the interface and her corresponding gasp almost covered up the sound of Clara clearing her throat across the room. Not quite, though, but it was River who pulled away from him.

"Who is —"

"I was _trying_ to tell you —"

"You are both disgusting, despicable people and I am going to bed," Clara said, crossing her arms sternly over her chest. "But I'm a light sleeper, so do keep your voices down, and additionally I might not sleep at all because the image of River's hand down your pants, Doctor, will certainly give me nightmares."

River looked at the Doctor with that expression that meant 'what on earth is wrong with you?' as he stepped back from her with a sigh.

"I _tried_!"

"You did not! How long was she standing there?"

"Since you walked in."

"Tomorrow morning you're going to cook her an enormous breakfast and then take her anywhere she wants," River said. "No detours for your whims."

"Yes, dear."

"Now," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, "does that sound like sufficient apology for making a lot of noise tonight?"

"Maybe you should buy her something nice," the Doctor said, kissing her nose, "just to be sure."

"Like her own time machine so I can have my ship and my Time Lord all to myself."

"That's not how it works," he said.

"Yeah," River said, "it is."

Her argument was too compelling after that for him to further disagree.


End file.
